


fuck help i dont know what i was doing, a series by me

by deltacrow



Category: Original Work
Genre: everything is vague, fuck someone help me, i dont know man, i dont know what im doing, i just want this out of my docs folder, tw: grade school bullying, tw: obama bullies nuns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltacrow/pseuds/deltacrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically i wake up at 3am sometimes and write something really fucking vague and dont know what to do with it. here is a compilation of everything i write at 3am, edited to make more (or less) sense at 3pm the next day, and realized had a glimmer of potential somewhere in the world. someone please help me elaborate on anything with potential as it comes. occasionally piece of fanfics will happen, and will be tagged accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fucking vague as shit original work shit

"You're positive?"

He simply nods.

"You ever use this-" he growls, " _I'm serious_ \- you ever use this, and you give up any claims of moving on. You- and hell, the ones that are there, too, alive and well then- you give up any chance of moving on. You die, and then you're doomed to repeat this, all of you, until it ends with you _not_ having your head up your ass."

 

They agree, after long nights of discussion and theory and extrapolation over glowing coals, to leave this in a back pocket; a contingency plan, for a last resort of last resorts. Neither of them mentions how desperate everyone is to have this end.

\---

 

In the end, it's used. They come back grimy and feeling very different, like a part of them fell with the stars and never quite made it back up from the craters yet.

 

They come back, and it's all over. Life becomes quiet.

\---

 

They are mourned when they die. At this point, their band of desperadoes had scattered: one tucked by the lakes up north, another hidden in the east, the last foxed away in a hidey-hole in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

 

Otherwise, folk with too much time on their hands would have noticed them all drop dead at the exact same time.

 

Curious.

\---

 

They come back. Over and over; one time two of them are neighbors, or perhaps lovers. Another time they play a great chase of cops and robbers, one being a government agent and another an infamous art thief. But only two at a time. Villain and hero, hero and sidekick, or sidekick and villain. But never all three.

 

They meet up, and somehow, they cry everytime. A part of them thinks, _I remember you,_ while another is simply embarrassed that the tears won't stop, what are they, four?

 

(Sometimes, they are. But not much.)

\---

 

Dynamics change. Nobody remembers scrambling through fields, falling stars shattering the sky and leaving pock-marks on more than just the earth. They just remember feelings of previous _them_ s, bundled up and left in the back of their minds, like the jumper cables and spare tire in a car's trunk. There, but forgotten.

\---

And then, abruptly, a mother looks at her child through the maternity ward glass and has two conflicting thoughts:

_You will understand me._

_I cannot be your mother._

The two of them cry, long into the night.

\---


	2. Obama Bullies Nuns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's actually a real article, written by-- of all people-- Chuck Norris, for a... news... thing. It's in, like, three parts, and I'm truly not sure if he's joking or not, but here it is:  
> http://townhall.com/columnists/chucknorris/2014/01/07/obama-bullying-nuns-part-1-n1772601/page/full
> 
> I just-- the title made me think of Obama riding a skateboard and pushing nuns over on the sidewalk. It sounded better at 3 AM, okay?

"Oh, look who it is," Obama sneered, "The roamin' catholic!"

"Fuck off, Obama," the nun shouts, pushing their way up into Obama's grill.

"Woah there," the president replies, shoving the nun out of his space and getting all up in the resident nun's. "I take the separation of church and state very seriously."

"The irony is palpable," the nun remarks in an almost off-hand manner. "Get out of here! Your top-down regulation days are over, big man!"

"You callin' me fat, you creationist freak?"

"No, but I'm implying it, evolutionist scum!"

"I’d take your lunch money for that remark," Obama sneered, "but your attendance and donation rates are lower than ever and dropping, just like your congregation!" Obama pushed the nun to the ground to punctuate his remark, and lifts the nun up by their habit. The nun struggles ineffectual kicking the air. "Your popularity has fallen, and it can’t get up! Quick, someone go fucking call LifeAlert!"

Obama drops the nun roughly to the ground, throws down his longboard and skates away, throwing remarks to the wind in triumph. The nun, in angry tears, screeches "damn you, Obama," into the setting sun.


End file.
